Hidden Heritage
by Leca B
Summary: Logan Jackson knew there was something wrong with the donkey-legged lady. No hormonal dysfunction in the world would give someone hooves. He'd also like an explanation to why she tried to kill him with fangs. His parents had some serious explaining to do. Percy and Annabeth's son finds out that his weird family is a little weirder than he had originally thought. Chap 3 edited.
1. My Mother Turns A Donkey Lady To Dust

A/N: Alright, guys! I'm so excited! I've mentioned I was writing this, but it's finally up for the world to see. To everyone who accepted my little Logan with wide arms, thank you so much, and here's him as a grown boy, finding out about his Olympian half of the family. I don't plan to make this story too long, 3-4 chapters. And I seriously am very fond of this one, so I hope you all have a good time reading it.

Hidden Heritage

Chapter 1

My mother turns a donkey-legged lady to dust

Logan knew something was going to go wrong the moment he stepped outside of the classroom.

His whole morning had been strange. He had woken up in time, enough to sit down and eat breakfast with his mom and dad, instead of running out the door still chewing while his parents rushed around trying to get his siblings ready before they were too late for work. Late was more than a word in the Jackson household, it was a way of life. Waking up early was foreboding to say the least. He had shrugged it off, but things just got weirder as the day went on.

His English teacher was an old hag who loved to torture her students with tales so old she must have been there when they were written, but that morning she had dropped Shakespeare and brought a song to work with. And it didn't even suck.

His third clue to something gone wrong was at lunch. His good friend Dew was wiggling nervously in his seat. But then again, Dew was always nervous. He was a funny guy. The first time he had heard his name, he thought it was Drew, but he learned it was really Dew. Like the water on the leaves in the mornings. His parents were kind of hippie, he'd tell him later. Dew must have been an overprotected child, because he was scared of everything. That morning, though, he'd been especially jittery, looking around like something would jump out of the lunch trays and attack him. Logan had joked about it. He remembered saying something like "you look like you saw a monster."

The first lesson he learned that afternoon was to hold his tongue before he jinxed himself.

"Man, calm down. Seriously. You're freaking me out." He told Dew as they left the classroom. Dew whimpered like someone had stepped on his toe.

"Logan. Don't go home walking today, okay?" he said, still looking around. He was almost panicky now.

"Why?"

"Don't ask. Just don't. Call your mom. Better yet, call your dad." He said with big brown pleading eyes. Logan furrowed his brows.

"I'm not a kid anymore. I can go home by myself. Besides, mom and dad are working." Dew was chewing on his sleeve. The funny thing was it looked like he was actually ripping the fabric with his teeth.

"Logan. This is serious. You need to call your parents." He was almost crying now. It made Logan suddenly worried.

"Dew, are you having… Problems or something? You know you can tell me anything. I can tell mom and dad when I get home. Or you can come with me and tell them yourself."

Dew adored his parents, and his parents adored Dew. They were friends with his, apparently. They had told Logan he knew them, they had visited them many times when he was little, but he didn't remember. His dad had been really happy when he met Dew, said his dad was his best friend growing up. Logan had asked him why he never saw him then, and his dad had trailed off, saying he traveled a lot. Anyway, if Dew wanted to talk to his parents so badly, maybe he needed help. Maybe he was having some kind of problem and he didn't feel comfortable talking to his hippie parents. Logan's parents were really cool, he knew they'd help with whatever it was.

"Yes, I have a problem! And you too!" Dew stomped his foot frustratedly.

"Woah, what about me, dude?" Logan's worry suddenly turned to wariness.

"You… You might be in danger." His friend said hesitantly. Logan laughed nervously.

"Not funny, Dew. Don't play with these things." Dew almost screeched. Logan took a step back, feeling uncomfortable. "Dude, this is getting weird. If it makes you stop freaking me out, I'll call mom, okay?" His friend sighed with relief for a full second before seemingly realizing he had done something very wrong. He slapped Logan's phone away. It fell with a painful clatter, but didn't break. "DEW! What was that for?" he asked angrily, picking it up.

"Sorry, I panicked. Don't use your phone."

"What? You just told me to call them!"

"I know what I said! But I didn't realize… No, with it so close, it would go horribly."

"What so close? What would go horribly?" Logan asked him, but Dew was mumbling to himself now.

"Got to IM them. But then he'll see. It would be better if he didn't know yet." He whimpered frustratedly. "I should have listened to mom. I'm too young for this, but no, I wanted to be like dad…"

"Dew! What the hell's going on?"

His friend looked at him with wide, scared eyes, lips trembling like he might start crying. He hesitated for one, two seconds, and then seemed to make up his mind. He put a hand on Logan's shoulder and stared at him determinedly.

"Stay here, Logan. I'll be back in a second."

"What? Where are you going? Why can't I go too?" but Dew's tone was firm now.

"Stay here." He repeated. Logan sighed exasperatedly.

"Fine!"

Dew set off down the hallway.

Logan intended to stay. He really did.

But then the donkey lady showed up.

If Logan had been looking at her face, he would probably have been screwed. She was a pretty lady. A really pretty lady. The kind of perfect pretty you see on TV, and he would have probably been more bothered by her beauty if one of her legs wasn't prosthetic. And the other was a donkey's.

_Okay_. A small part of him said. _Okay, that's not the weirdest thing we've seen. _The more conscious, dominant part of his brain was trying to decide between being terrified and exploding. He thought it had picked both.

"Hello, deary." The lady said pleasantly. She was pretty and friendly.

"Uh… Hi." She put her hands on her waist. His eyes unconsciously turned back to her donkey leg.

"Oh, look at you, Logan Jackson. You look so much like your father!" she gushed slightly. His brain was having trouble processing the image. _There's no way you're seeing that, dude. _It seemed to be saying. _I am. It's there. _He reassured himself.

"You know my father?" he asked, intrigued.

"Oh, yes! Impossible to forget! You have his eyes!" Logan did have his father's sea green eyes. Maybe she did know his dad. Maybe she was just a nice lady with a crazy hormonal dysfunction.

"Where do you know my dad from?" he asked politely.

But she had _hooves_. No hormonal dysfunction caused _hooves_.

"Oh, it's been a long time. I'm sure he won't remember me." She waved her hand, walking a little movement was the weirdest thing he'd ever seen.

"Uh, I'll mention I met you, ma'am." He said, being the nice kid his mom had raised.

"Oh, that would be lovely! When you meet him in Tartarus, tell him Kelli said hi." She grinned. Her lips pulled back over pointy teeth. Were those fangs? Man, this lady had rotten luck in the genetic lottery.

Wait a second, Tartarus? What the hell was a Tartarus? Why would he meet his father there?

"How do you know my dad, again?" he asked suspiciously. She seethed, baring her fangs in a terrifying grin.

"Oh, I tried to kill him once or twice." She said casually.

"Oh, that's ni—Wait, what?" she hissed, in what passed for laughter.

"It was nice making your acquaintance, Logan Jackson."

And then she lunged forward.

For a millisecond, Logan thought he was a goner. And then some kind of instinct he had never known he had made him throw himself to the side before she could eat him. She stumbled forward and slammed face first on the wall. He would have laughed if he wasn't so busy scrambling to stand up and running for his life.

He didn't know what the people around him would think of a twelve-year-old racing away from school while being chased by some donkey-legged-crippled-vampire woman, but he didn't dwell on it. He just ran, hoping he'd outrun the thing. His brain was still not coping, but his muscles knew better than to stick around to figure out. An image suddenly popped into his head. It was an old memory, his father sitting by the foot of his bed, growling and making faces to imitate a monster as he told him a story. He didn't know why, but the tale looked familiar now. He had thought it had been just one of his dad's silly bedtime stories, because, come on, cheerleading vampires attacking a guy at a school, boy blowing up some room and jumping out the window? Please.

He was starting to doubt the improbability of the situation.

The woman's voice sounded in his head. _'I tried to kill him once or twice.'_

He felt his stomach drop, his every hair stood up. He felt cold all of a sudden. What if it wasn't a stupid story his dad had made up? What if it was real? What if his dad was the guy?

Logan heard hissing in front of him. He froze on the spot. He hadn't managed to outrun her. She had outrun him. Somehow she had caught up to him, and if his dad's stories were true, she was going to kill him. He was going to die. There was no way he could beat a monster, he was just a kid, he had no powers, no skills, nothing. He searched his memories. How had the vampires been beaten in his dad's stories? Fire? No. Noise? No, those were some birds. A wooden stick to the heart? Logan mentally scolded himself. That was no time to be funny.

A sword, he remembered. A bronze sword.

Great. Perfect. Now he was safe! He carried a bronze sword around all the time! All he had to do was whip it out and go samurai on the monster's face.

Not.

He tried running back. With a high jump, she landed behind him. She was quicker than you'd expect with those crazy legs. He gulped. There was no way he'd survive this, but he had to keep trying. He couldn't just lie down and die.

A voice that sounded suspiciously like his mother suddenly rang through his head. _'Make her talk.'_

It couldn't hurt, could it? The worst it could happen would be her killing him, which was going to happen anyway, so he had nothing to lose. He said the first thing that came to his mind.

"So… What are you?" she groaned, dropping her clawed hands.

"I'm an empousa, you silly demigod!"

"I'm not silly, just misinform—Wait, what did you call me?" she huffed, as if she had had that conversation a million times.

"A demigod."

"What's that?"

"It doesn't matter. Stand still while I suck out your eyeballs." She said annoyedly, marching forward. He took a few steps back.

"Hey, wait, Miss… Kelli was it?" she nodded exasperatedly, still walking. "What's an empousa? I mean, is that your family name, or like… A disease?"

"I'm a Greek monster, boy!" she screeched. "You're even worse than your father!"

"You don't know anything about my father!" he defended, partly because his mom's voice kept telling him to _keep her talking_, partly because he _wanted_ her to keep talking about him and tell him more about how she knew his dad.

"Oh, quiet, child! I know all about your father! Damned demigod, been wrecking havoc since he was your age! Such a pain! Blowing me up all the time! I couldn't even kill him, just a little bit, he wouldn't let me!"

"How inconsiderate." Logan said sarcastically. The sarcasm was lost on Kelli.

"I know! And he'd be all 'Go back to Tartarus, Kelli! Why don't you just stay dead, Kelli?' I mean, is he rude, or what?"

"Very rude." Logan agreed, backing off slowly. He looked around at something he could use to hit her. There were a few bricks strewn around from a construction site. It was no bronze sword, but it may make her a little dizzy for a while, enough to give him time to run away.

"Ugh! Back in Ancient Greece, oh, those were the good days. People were scared of us!" Kelli said smugly.

"I'm pretty scared of you." He said nervously. She waved him off.

"That's sweet, Logan Jackson, but it's not the same. Before, ah, demigods would tremble before us. Now it's like we're just a nuisance!"

"I'm sure it's just a phase." He said reassuringly, backing closer to the bricks. He was crouching down to pick one up when she turned to him.

"You're so nice, Logan Jackson! You're the sweetest demigod I'll ever kill…" she stopped, spotting the brick on his hand. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." He said quickly, fingers closing around the object.

"You're trying to kill me! You weren't listening! You pretended to care!" she accused him. "You're despicable!"

"Sorry." He stood up, brick in hand.

"That's enough! Now, Logan Jackson, you die!"

Before she could lunge, he tossed his half-assed weapon. It hit her straight between the eyes and she screeched, hands flying to her face. He didn't stick around to see her recover. He shot down the street, running as fast as his legs could carry him. She caught up quickly. He hadn't managed to slow her down, just make her madder. Soon, she was hot on his heels. He heard before he felt her claws stretch forward. He couldn't dodge it this time. Her claws grazed his shoulder, tearing his shirt and skin. Pain exploded in his body. He had never felt anything like that. Not even when he broke his arm falling off a tree in second grade. His knees bucked, and he fell face first on the ground.

His shoulder was burning, his legs throbbed from the effort of running. There was a dull ache in his cheek from where he'd just fallen. He saw by the shadow looming over him that Kelli was close. Too close. That was it.

He was going to die.

He closed his eyes and waited.

Nothing happened.

He heard the clicking noise of a gun, and his mother's voice sounded, clear and dangerous.

"Step away from my son."

He opened his eyes. His mother was there. She was dressed for work, black pencil skirt, white blouse and heels, her blonde hair was pulled back in a falling bun, like she had hurried there. The stormy grey eyes his brother had inherited glowed with a dangerous hue. She had her arm outstretched, a bronze gun in her right hand, pointing straight at Kelli.

His eyes did a double take. His mom was there. She was seeing Kelli and not freaking out. She was staring at the monster like she might kill her.

Which she apparently could do, since she was _holding a gun_.

"Mom!" he cried out, half relief, half astonishment at seeing his nerdy architect mother pointing a gun at a monster. He didn't know she had a gun. He didn't even know she could shoot.

"Logan." She said calmly. "Stay very still." She didn't have to worry about it, he wasn't moving any time soon.

"Annabeth Chase!" Kelli screeched in a half laugh. "Long time no see!" Logan saw his mom aim.

"You messed with the wrong demigod's kid." Kelli laughed.

"What will you do with a gun? Mortal weapons can't hurt me!" she said smugly. His mother smirked. An amused, dangerous smirk that almost made him feel sorry for Kelli.

"Good thing this isn't a mortal weapon, then." Logan saw understanding dawn on Kelli's face and she tried to make a run for it, but his mom was faster. "Oh, and by the way? It's Jackson now."

She pulled the trigger. Kelli dissolved in a column of smoke and dirt. Some of it landed on him. Logan felt like throwing up, not quite sure if for the monster dust, or the whole terrifying experience. Now that the shock was over, he became conscious of the scorching pain on his shoulder, his every limb was sore and throbbing. He would have liked to say he stood up proudly and handled the pain barely gritting his teeth like an action movie hero. What he did was cry out 'Mom!' and cling to her as soon as she rushed to his side.

Yes, real macho, Logan.

"It's alright, honey, everything's fine now." She told him soothingly. His cheeks burned red. At least he wasn't crying. She pulled him away and took a look at his shoulder, wincing a little. "Ow. It's looking ugly. Dew!" she yelled over her shoulder.

He hadn't noticed, but his mother's car was parked just a few meters back. Dew tumbled out of it, clumsier than ever, crouching beside him to help lift him up.

"You're alive!" he bellowed out. It sounded a little like bleating.

"Yes. And you let my mom face a monster on her own?" he accused. Dew looked offended.

"I knew she could handle it! She's Annabeth Jackson, she's a legen…" his mom cut him off.

"That's enough, Dew." She said gently, checking his wound while walking them to the car. It wasn't deep, but it hurt a lot. It had stopped bleeding, but his shirt had been soaked with blood.

"She's a what?" Logan asked confused, then turned to her. "You're a what?"

"Nothing. Get in the car, both of you. Dew I'll drive you home. I should probably talk to Chiron about this." She said with a sigh.

"Who's Chiron? Your dad?" Logan asked Dew. He did the same bleating thing, but it sounded like laughter this time.

"No, stupid! He's the camp director! Well, activity's director."

"Camp?"

Logan was really confused. He didn't understand what was going on anymore. First he's attacked by some creepy greek monster, then his loving, admittedly a little scary but in no way homicidal mom turns it to dust with a bronze gun, his friend knew all about it and by the looks of it, he knew a lot of other things he hadn't told him. And now his mother was talking to his dad's floating head.

Wait, what?

"What… What?" he pointed at the image of his father, half his body showing through a thin wall of mist. Was that a rainbow?

"Iris Messaging." Dew said happily. "That's the IM I was talking about before."

"But… But…" Logan was at loss for words. Or thoughts. Or actions. He just didn't know how to handle it.

His mother waved her hand through the mist and the image disappeared. Without another word, they hopped into the car and his mother started driving. Silence reigned for a few minutes, the kind of awkward silence that precedes something big, like an explosion. His brain's explosion, Logan guessed.

"Alright, shoot." Annabeth said, keeping her eyes on the road, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Where are we going?" were the first words that tumbled out of his mouth.

"Camp Half-Blood." She said like it answered everything.

"Where?" he asked doubtfully. Her eyes seemed to sadden a little.

"I suppose you wouldn't remember. You were so little…We used to take you a camp… Don't you remember anything?" he forced his memory.

"Just vague, random things. Lots of cabins… People wearing orange. It' the place you and dad met, right?" she smiled at him, the stormy grey in her eyes turned lighter, like silver, the way it always did when she talked about his father.

"Yes. I can't believe you listened to the story." She said jokingly. He blushed.

He had heard it a thousand times, how his parents had met in the camp, how they had hated each other in the beginning, then became friends, then more than friends and then finally got together after years of people telling them to just date already. He even knew they had gotten thrown on a lake after their first kiss, because his Aunt Rachel had told him. He would huff and puff and pretend he was bored, but every time his sister begged to hear the story of how their parents met, he would sit close by and listen. It was embarrassing, but he liked to hear it. It was nice to know his parents liked each other like that.

"Well, I will have to tell you that story again, the full complicated, terrifying, mildly scarring demigod version." She said with a chuckle.

"Demigod." He blurted out. When his mother sent him a questioning look, he explained. "That monster used that word. She called me a demigod. What does it mean?"

His mother turned to him for a second, her eyes sharp and challenging again.

"Think, Logan. You're my son too, you should be able to figure it out."

It came crashing onto him like lightning.

"You don't mean… Not like the myths." She smiled proudly.

"Exactly like the myths."

"But they're just… Ow!" he turned to Dew. He had leaned forward on the back seat and was now applying some kind of medicine to his injured shoulder.

"Don't call them myths, honey. It will upset your grandparents." His mother said cheerfully.

"What are you doing?" he asked Dew.

"Nectar. It heals." His friend said sheepishly.

"Nectar." Logan deadpanned. "Okay." He turned back to his mom. "If what you say is true, mom, then to be a demigod I'd be half human, half-god, right? You're not a goddess." He pointed out. "You're just… Mom." He finished pathetically. She sent him a sympathetic look.

"I suppose if you want to get technical you wouldn't be a half-blood. Maybe… A quarter-blood? But then again, the percentage…" she started, but he cut her off.

"Wait… You… You said grandparents. You said not to upset my grandparents, you don't mean…" she grinned. He shook his head incredulously. "No! I've met grandma and grandpa, they're normal!"

"We prefer to use the term mortal." Dew supplied. Logan glared at him and he shut up.

"You don't mean to tell me… My grandparents are gods."

"Not all of them, no. My mother…"

"No way! Grandma Thena?"

"What do you think Thena stands for, Logue?" she asked him. Her grey eyes were shining. She was having way too much fun with this. He opened his mouth to say he didn't know, but he couldn't. Because he did know.

"Athena." He said quietly.

And the thing was he _could_ believe it. He had met his grandmother before, but he didn't see her much. She had always looked too young to be a grandma, with her black hair and his mom's intelligent calculating eyes. They had told him she lived in another town, but he could easily believe it was another world. This strange side of the world where women had donkey legs and fangs and his mother shot monsters to dust with bronze guns where he was now included. He remembered the last time he had seen her, on his seventh birthday. He remembered trying to squirm away from her measuring eyes, remembered her aura of power. He had cried until she placed a hand on his forehead and muttered a blessing. He had always thought it was a typical grandmotherly blessing. He wasn't so sure now.

Another, even more overwhelming thought occurred to him.

"When grandpa says Poseidon…" he started. His mother cut him off with a loud laugh.

"Yes. He meats it."

He stopped, trying to absorb the information.

Okay. His brain decided. Exploding. Now.

"Why… Why didn't you ever tell me?" he asked. He didn't mean to sound upset, but it just didn't seem fair to dump all of this on his head all of a sudden. His mother's eyes saddened again.

"It's complicated, love. We didn't know what would happen. When demigods realize what they are, monsters find them easier. Your scent gets stronger."

"Now what? I stink?" he grumbled. She chuckled.

"All demigods have scent. It's how monsters find us. We tried raising you in this environment at first. We took you to camp. We taught you mythology. We hoped you'd be safe and turn out mortal. But it wasn't what happened. Monsters found you. We got scared. So we did our best to hide the Olympian factor of our lives."

"But how didn't you know what I'd be?" her expression darkened. Her eyes got that far off look they got some days, before his father talked to her and pulled her back from wherever she'd gone.

"There are no registers of any kid being born of two demigods, sweetheart." She said softly.

"What? Why?"

She turned those sad, haunted eyes to him, and suddenly he remembered all those tales of Greek mythology never ended well. They had always ended with falls from grace, people going insane and tragic deaths. He knew then, that his parents's lives hadn't been easy, that they had gone through a lot to be where they were now. He knew then that they must have sacrificed a lot to be there, talking to him.

"Demigods… Don't usually live that long, love."


	2. My Parents Are Living Legends

A/N: Hello~ou! Chapter 2 of Hidden Heritage! I have so much fun writing this story and you were all so supportive. The reviews were so amazing, thank you so much, guys! I hope you all like this chapter too!

Hidden Heritage

Chapter 2

My parents are living legends

Logan had had enough trouble accepting the fact that he was half god without finding out his friend was half goat. The ride to Camp Half-Blood had been enlightening. Questions he'd been asking his whole life were finally being answered honestly. For example, he now understood why his Aunt Thalia has looked the same age now as in all his baby memories. It wasn't because she was born when his dad was twenty. It wasn't Logan's memories being hazy because he was just a kid. She was a Hunter of Artemis, she had been fifteen for the past twenty something years and she'd look fifteen for twenty something more. His Uncle Nico wasn't a sociopath, he was a son of Hades. And all the time he spent missing, he wasn't arrested like Logan had thought, he was working for his dad in the Underworld. Logan still couldn't decide which was coolest. Dew's parents weren't hippie, his dad was a satyr, the Lord of the Wild, and his mom was… Well, a tree.

Now Logan understood why he had never met his Aunt Juniper.

He had never questioned why Uncle Jason, Uncle Frank, Aunt Piper and Aunt Hazel lived in California, because they'd always looked normal, but his mom had the kindness to inform him they lived in a small replica of Ancient Rome in San Francisco. And his cool Uncle Leo wasn't a pyromaniac on purpose. He just caught on fire sometimes because he was a son of Hephaestus. That also explained how he had built him a toy flying ship out of celestial bronze when Logan was little. And it actually did fly.

He had taken all of it pretty well. Partly because a small part of him had always known there was more to life, something everyone was hiding from him, partly because he was too dazed to have a proper reaction. After finding out all of that in one day, you'd think he'd be less surprised to find out Dew was a satyr too. But when his friend took off his pants and shoes to reveal furry goat legs and hooves, Logan kind of freaked out.

"Dude!" he said astonished, pointing at Dew's legs.

"Yeah." His friend said sheepishly.

"You're… You're… Dude!" he stammered.

"Yeah." Dew encouraged.

"You're…"

"Just go ahead and say it."

"You're half goat!" Logan exclaimed finally.

"You're half god." Dew pointed out.

"You're half goat!" he repeated louder.

"Jeez, half your family descends from gods and that's all fine, but a measly detail such as me being half goat…" Dew started, huffing.

"You're half goat!" Logan said, almost accusingly. Annabeth put a hand on his shoulder and started steering him to the Big House.

"Alright, honey, I think we've established that." She turned to Dew. "I'm sorry, Dew, I think he just chose to concentrate on freaking out over this particular piece of information so he wouldn't freak out over all the rest." Dew snorted.

"Wait until he meets Chiron."

Logan would have liked to say he acted like a hero worthy of meeting the famous hero trainer Chiron. In reality he stood in front of him pointing at his lower half and saying 'you're half horse!' for a couple of minutes. The centaur was terribly amused, though Logan had been embarrassed to death after he calmed down. His mother assured him that it wasn't the worst reaction they'd seen at camp. An Hermes camper had fainted once. Some Apollo kid hadn't heard the half in 'half-god' and walked around trying to zap people for a week after he arrived. His father had nearly been turned into a dolphin by Dionysus. Logan was still embarrassed, but he felt better.

"Pfff. So Peter Johnson reproduced?" Mr. D scoffed. Logan didn't like him much, but he was a god and he was enough his mother's son to hold his tongue.

"Yes, Mr. D. This is our son, Logan." His mother said with an annoyed edge to her voice.

"And what? You expect me to congratulate you on successfully passing your genes ahead?" he asked crankily.

"Mr. D, be nice to our new camper." Chiron said pleasantly.

"Camper? The brat's spawn is staying?" Mr. D whined.

"In the light of the latest events, I believe so." The god twirled his diet Coke, sending Logan an exasperated look.

"Whatever. Stay if you must. But don't expect me to like you just because your parents managed to stay alive long enough to procreate." He grumbled.

"Mr. D…" Chiron called warningly, looking at the sky warily.

"Oh, fine! Welcome to Camp Half-Blood Lucas Johnson. There. I said it. Now get the hell out of here. Go blow something up like your father used to." But instead of shooing him, Mr. D got up himself and left, mumbling something along the lines of 'just ten years more'.

"Our director has a… Remarkable personality." Chiron said hesitantly. Annabeth chuckled, Logan cracked a grin. "Now let me look at you, my boy!" he said, opening his arms as if to put them on his shoulder, but Logan was too short for his reach. "The last time I saw you, you were hiding in your father's shoulder, crying because you were scared of the owls in cabin six." He said with a chuckle. Logan felt his cheeks burn. "Come in, come in!" he turned around and gestured for them to follow him into the house. When he wasn't looking, his mom leaned down to whisper to him.

"Your father's still scared of them, if it makes you feel better." Logan grinned.

"A little."

They walked into the Big House, it was normal. Logan wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't what he had imagined of the headquarters of a mythological greek training camp. Well, except maybe for the living leopard head on the wall. That was pretty creepy. Chiron invited them to sit, and right when Logan was starting to wonder how a centaur sits, he pulled out some kind of wheelchair, and somehow managed to make the lower half of his body disappear inside it. The little part in Logan's brain that wasn't completely convinced it shouldn't be freaking out was thankful. When he settled down, Chiron smiled fondly to his mother.

"Annabeth, my dear. It's been a while." He told her. She grinned.

"Chiron." She said as a greeting.

"Where's Percy?"

"Picking up Nate and Charlie. He was coming over after it. He'll be here soon."

"Good, good. Now, Logan, I believe we can start?" he asked animatedly.

"Uh… Sure?"

"I don't think the orientation movie will be necessary here, Chiron." His mother told the centaur.

"Ah, I see. You've covered the basics." She nodded.

"If by the basics you mean telling me my grandparents are gods, monsters are real and I'm some sort of demi-but-not-quite-god, than yeah. She's covered it." Logan said a little exasperatedly. It was still a bit too much information.

"Well, that saves us time. Let's jump a few topics. Do you know where you are, Logan?"

"Camp Half-Blood." He said uncertainly. Chiron nodded and proceeded.

"Correct. Camp Half-Blood is a home to every demigod in need. Well, greek demigods. You'll have to go west if you're roman."

"Wait. Roman?" Logan scrunched his brows. Annabeth squeezed his shoulder.

"Details later, honey."

"Here in Camp Half-Blood we welcome and train demigods to survive in the real world."

"Survive?" Logan asked, his voice going up an octave.

"Chiron, you're scaring him?" his mom said, but she looked more amused than chiding.

"Yes, my boy, survive. That empousa wasn't the first or will be the last to attack you. You must learn to defend yourself. Here you'll learn the necessary skills to do so. Which considering the circumstances, we should get started with immediately…"

"Chiron." Annabeth cut him off. He sent her a questioning look.

"Surely you agree…"

"We're not sure yet." She looked away. He sighed tiredly.

"Annabeth we've had this discussion before, you know…"

"I know." She cut him off. "But it's the middle of the school year, we can't just take him…"

"It's dangerous." Chiron insisted. "You more than anyone should know that a son of…"

"This is different." His mother interrupted him. She was tense, her voice was tight. "We'll be there to protect him."

"You can't always be there, my dear." The centaur said gently. His mother's eyes hardened. She clearly hadn't liked his statement.

"What are you talking about?" Logan cut them off. He was really confused. A second ago they had been friendly and happy to see each other, now his mom looked ready to kill.

"Nothing." She said before Chiron could answer him. "We'll discuss it when your father gets here." She said resolutely. Chiron tried to argue, but she was determined to let it drop. "You should go to the infirmary. Take a look at this shoulder. I know Dew fixed you up, but I'd rather have someone from the Apollo cabin check you up."

Logan had been so caught up in all the news he had completely forgotten about his shoulder. He turned his head to look at it. Dew had been right about the nectar. It had stopped the bleeding and the pain, all that was left from the empousa attack was a dull throbbing on the left side of his body, and the four tears in his blood stained shirt where her claws had been. He shivered, making a mental note to throw that shirt away, or else every time he looked at it he'd remember the terror of the experience.

"What's the Apollo cabin?" he asked. His mother calmed down a little to explain to him.

"Each cabin represents a god, your immortal parent, it's where you stay, with your half siblings. The Apollo campers are our healers. Apollo is the god of medicine so his children inherit his skill. They're cabin 7."

"Oh." A sudden thought occurred to him. "What's your cabin, mom?" Annabeth grinned.

"Cabin six. Look for it later."

"What about dad's?"

"Three." He stopped, thinking about it.

"If you stay at your godly parents' cabin… Where am I staying?" he asked. His mother and Chiron exchanged a look.

"If he goes to cabin six, Poseidon will be offended." Chiron started.

"If he goes to cabin three my mother will be furious, yes."

"The Hermes cabin?" Chiron suggested. Annabeth hesitated.

"I didn't trust Travis and Connor with a book, I don't think I trust them with my son." she said pointedly. Chiron chuckled. "Who's Hermes' head counselor nowadays?"

"Cooper Allen."

"How can they _sound_ like trouble?" she asked with a frown.

"We'll figure it out." Chiron said, moving on his wheelchair to the porch and calling out for somebody. A few seconds later, a girl walked into the room.

She was older than him by a few years, fifteen or sixteen. She had dark blonde hair, pulled together in a braid over her shoulder and startling grey eyes. Logan was surprised because he had never seen anybody besides his mother with eyes like that. The girl was tall and tanned, with the same calculating look he had seen his mother send people his whole life. They didn't really look like each other, different nose, different mouth, eyebrows, cheekbones. It was a completely different face, but there was something in her expression, the way she carried herself, that resembled his mom.

"Emma, say hello to our new camper, Logan Jackson. And I think you know your half-sister Annabeth…" Chiron started, but didn't get to finish. Emma's eyes widened and her mouth had fallen open. The girl was looking at his mom as if she might drop to her knees and start worshiping her.

"Annabeth Chase." Emma said in awe. She stumbled forward and held out a hand to her. "It's… An honor to meet you ma'am."

"Annabeth is fine, Emma. We're sisters after all, aren't we?" his mom shook her hand. Emma looked like she might pass out. She started hyperventilating.

"You are such an inspiration to Cabin six, we have read so much about you. And I have to say, your work in Olympus… We've visited last winter solstice and your designs were amazing, the _detail_…" Annabeth's eyes started shining with what Logan's father and him had nicknamed 'the glow', which always preceded a 'knowledge onslaught'. Logan knew if his mom started talking now they'd be there until morning. Luckily Chiron seemed to know it too and broke into the conversation before it could get out of hand.

"Emma, Logan was attacked on his way here and was injured. Could you take him to the infirmary?" Emma hesitated like she wanted to say no with all her heart, but ended up nodding resignedly.

"Sure, I guess." She sighed disappointedly, waving for Logan to follow her. He heard Chiron tell her encouragingly "She'll still be here later".

Emma looked much better after that. She seemed very eager to make later sooner because her steps were so quick, Logan was having trouble keeping up with her. One of the times he had managed to catch up, she decided to strike up a conversation, which in Emma world sounded a bit like interrogation. Or maybe that was an Athena thing. His mom did that too.

"How do you know Annabeth Chase?" she inquired.

"It's Jackson too, you know?" he corrected.

"Oh, yeah. She married him." Logan didn't like the way she said 'him'. Like his father was some rock tied to his mom's ankle.

"Yeah, she did." He said pointedly. Emma seemed to notice his annoyance.

"What?" she asked like she didn't understand it. "So, you're going to answer my question?"

"She's my mom." He told her, frowning, feeling smug at the shock in her face. She stopped dead on her heels, staring at him like he had suddenly won the lottery.

"You are so lucky." She said in that awed voice. "You must know so much, she must have taught you so much! Just imagine! You must know everything about architecture!"

"Uh… No." he said lamely. She giggled.

"Of course. No one knows everything. But you must know a lot."

"Uh… No." he repeated. Truth was his mother had tried, but Logan could never find it in him to care about any of it. Whenever she started on an architecture attack, he fell asleep halfway through it.

"A little bit?" Emma tried hopefully. He shook his head. Her expression turned sour.

"This way, Logan Jackson."

She said his last name like he was suddenly reduced to 'his' son. Logan had an idea why they didn't like his dad much, or him now. Emma dropped him off in front of a wooden cabin. It wasn't very far from the Big House, it was a short construction, but large, with double doors, a porch and a lot of windows. He tried to tell her bye, but she left without another word, like he suddenly wasn't worth it. Logan hesitated for a second before lifting his arm and knocking. A voice called out for him to enter.

The outside had looked like a normal cabin, but the inside was a miniature hospital. They had rows of beds lining up along the walls, shelves filled with what he guessed was medicine bottles and materials for bandages. In the back of the room, a guy dropped a guitar and stood up from an armchair. He was much older than Logan, eighteen or nineteen, tall, kind of buff. He had curly blonde hair and a blinding smile. He looked like an actor from a teen chick flick.

"Hey, what's up?" he greeted, walking up to him. His eyes zeroed in on Logan's shoulder automatically. He shook his head. "Someone got a little too excited in sword fighting?" he asked, pointing to one of the beds.

"Uh… No. A monster clawed me." Logan said unsurely, climbing the bed. The guy had gone to fetch the materials from the shelves, but he seemed puzzled.

"Monster? It's not advanced training night yet." Logan was a little alarmed. Did that mean they brought monsters into camp as training? Could you get wounds like that in sword fighting? Didn't they use blunt swords with balls on the tip or something?

"It wasn't here." He said warily. The camper finally looked at his face.

"Oh, you're a newbie." He dropped a bunch of stuff on the bed and extended a hand. "I'm Evan Ward. Head counselor of the Apollo Cabin. Welcome to camp." He said friendly.

"Logan Jackson." Logan greeted, shaking his hand. Evan asked permission to cut his shirt. Logan wasn't terribly upset.

"We'll get you a camp T-shirt. I think I have some somewhere around here." He said absent-mindedly, checking his wound. "It's not so bad, actually it's almost healed. Did somebody fix you up?"

"My friend did." Evan looked it over, pressed it and furrowed his brows.

"That's nectar work. Your friend's a demigod?"

"No, he's…" Logan stopped. He couldn't believe he was going to say that. "A satyr." He finished with a strange expression. Evan laughed.

"It's a little overwhelming, isn't it?" he said sympathetically, methodically cleaning the wound and then bandaging it.

"Understatement." Logan mumbled under his breath.

"There. All done." Evan said, finishing with his shoulder. "You'll be good as new, but I'm not sure the scars will fade."

"Scars?" Logan asked, dismayed. Evan smiled to him.

"Hey, cheer up! The girls love it!" he said encouragingly. Logan had to smile at that. "Hold up, I'll get you a shirt."

Evan rummaged around the cabinets and drawers until he found the right one. He sent Logan one measuring look and then pulled out an orange T-shirt. It had a pegasus on the front and 'Camp Half-Blood' in black letters.

"Here, I think this one fits." Logan took off his ruined T-shirt. He held it in his hands for a second, not knowing where to put it. Evan seemed to understand his confusion. He picked up the trash can and extended it to him, Logan threw it away. He couldn't say he was sad to see it go.

Logan put on the orange T-shirt. It was a little too loose on him, but it would do. He looked down at himself. He was wearing a camp shirt, exactly like the one his dad and mom wore on the pictures they had back at home. He smiled slightly. He had always been really close to his parents, but he had felt sometimes a distance between them and him every time they talked about something in their past. And now he was a part of it, the distance they had created for his safety was gone. Using that shirt, he felt connected to them, to the real them they had been sacrificing for his sake.

"It's funny." Evan's voice brought him back from his reverie.

"What?" he asked. Evan shook his head, smiling.

"It was just a thought. You kinda look like one of our old campers. I mean, he hasn't been to camp in years because, you know, he must be like, forty now, but Chiron's got pictures, and yeah, you look like him." Logan frowned.

"Really?"

"Yeah…" Evan hesitated again, as if considering saying or not what was on his mind. "You said your last name was Jackson."

"Yeah."

"You wouldn't… Be related to Percy Jackson, would you?" He asked with an uncertain frown. Logan's eyebrows shot up.

"You know my dad?"

Evan seemed to have a small attack. A fangirl attack.

"Woah, Percy Jackson's your dad?" he spazzed, reaching out to shake Logan's hand again.

"Yeah…" Logan said, a little scared at Evan's sudden enthusiasm.

"Man, this is so awesome! He's my hero!" Logan didn't know what to say to that. He was slightly creeped out by Evan's reaction.

"Uh… Okay."

"He's everyone's hero, actually. The stories about him…"

"You've got stories about my dad?" Logan was getting confused again.

"Of course! The things he's done… Everyone knows who Percy Jackson is." Evan was still shaking his hand. "Dude, it's such an honor to meet his son!"

"What did he do?" Logan asked. It was seriously freaking him out. The way Evan talked about his dad made him sound like some kind of superhero. Logan had half a mind to ask him if there weren't two Percy Jacksons in New York, because his dad sniffled watching Finding Nemo, he was pretty sure that wasn't the most heroic thing in the book. Evan laughed.

"You're kidding, right? Fighting titans, going on quests? Saving the world? Twice? The man's a living legend!"

"He what?" Logan asked incredulously. Saving the world? His dad couldn't keep his mother's plants alive, much less the world!

"Yeah, he…"

"Excuse me." A deep voice cut in, calling both boys's attention. Before Logan could see who had walked in, a blur of yellow rushed in and attached itself to his legs.

"Charlie!" he exclaimed, surprised and happy.

His little seven-year-old sister was clinging to his leg, staring up at him with her shining sea green eyes. She was giving him her best version of a death glare, trying to look intimidating, but her blonde curly hair was up in pigtails and her small round nose was wrinkled in her pout and she looked too adorable to be scary at all.

"Logue!" she squealed angrily. "Don't you ever go on adventures without me!" she whined. He laughed incredulously. He wouldn't classify being nearly killed by a greek monster as an adventure, and he'd most definitely wouldn't let her join, but he wouldn't tell her that. Charlie had a terrible temper.

"Okay, Charlie."

"You listen to the bossy blonde. It will save your hide ninety percent of the time."

Logan didn't have to look up to know it was his father. He should have guessed when Evan froze in place beside him. Logan lifted his head and found his father's sea green eyes looking back at him amusedly. He looked like he always did, the windswept jet black hair, the well trimmed beard, a white polo shirt and shorts, tan skin. He looked like he'd spent the whole year sailing the ocean, which wasn't all that far fetched His dad was a marine biologist, he spent half his life at sea.

He was also a son of Poseidon, Logan remembered. It kind of explained why his mom called him a cheater every time he came home with a pay raise.

"Dad." He called out, surprised at how relieved he was at seeing him.

"Hey, kiddo." His father said with a smile. Charlie let go of him and Logan jumped off the bed. He sent the very shocked Evan a hesitant look.

"Uh… This is Evan. He healed my shoulder." He introduced to be polite. His father walked in and shook Evan's hand.

"Hi. I'm Logan's dad, Percy Jackson…"

"I know." Evan said, awestruck. His dad sent Logan an accomplice smile and he held back a laugh.

"Let me guess, Apollo cabin?" Evan nodded. "Well, Evan, you think I could borrow my son for a while?" His father asked.

"Of course!" Evan said quickly. Logan thought if his dad had asked to borrow a leg, he would have said yes. "He's alright now, anyway." He went back to the professional healer for a second. "Take it easy for the next few days, okay?"

"'Kay. Thanks, dude." Logan walked until his father. He put an arm around his shoulder and held Charlie's hand. Before they turned around, Logan caught Evan's look.

He got the impression that the other boy would pledge his eternal alliance to him for introducing him to his dad. Logan made a mental note. If he ever needed something, he should ask Evan. Not Emma. Never Emma. He shouldn't even breathe too loudly near Emma.

When they left the infirmary, his dad turned to Charlie, kneeling down to her eye level.

"Why don't you go tell mom and Nate we saw your big brother, honey?" he told her. She didn't look very happy about it.

"Why?" she asked, looking at Logan and their dad as if suspecting they would go on another adventure without her.

"What a suspicious lady! Go on, do that for you poor old dad!" Percy whined, tickling her. She squirmed away from his grasp, giggling. She grabbed both sides of his dad's face and looked at him very seriously.

"You won't go on adventures without me." She said in a low threatening voice. As threatening as a cute seven-year-old could.

"I promise." Their dad said solemnly. She grinned.

"Okay."

"Thank you." He said, kissing the top of her head and standing up. Charlie threw herself at Logan, hugging his waist.

"Bye, Logue!" she squealed and took off running to the Big House.

His dad turned to him. His expression was serious, but his eyes were dancing with humor, so Logan guessed their talk wouldn't be too bad. Percy gestured for him to follow him.

"Walk with me, son."


	3. I Learn Some Painful Truths

A/N: Hello, lovelies! Chapter 3 is here and we finally have Percy and Logan talk. Expect some angsty feels, because who wants to live their life running from monsters?

**EDIT 28/02/13**: Hello! I'm aware I said there would be a chapter 4, but I started writing and realized the story was going too far, and that wasn't my initial intention, and if I tried to stretch it out it would take a bad turn. I edited this chapter to include an ending and that's it. I'll still write oneshots on the adventures of the Jackson siblings, but not on a linear fashion. More like big ball of wibbly wobbley timey-wimey stuff (sorry, couldn't help myself.) So long! And from the bottom of my heart, thank you for all the support! It meant a lot!

Hidden Heritage

Chapter 3

I learn some painful truths

His father had walked him through camp, letting him gape at everything and being nice enough to not make fun of him for it. He just smiled and answered as Logan pointed at everything and cried out "What is that? And that? And that?". They passed strawberry fields, the pegasi stables, the canoe lake, a rock climbing wall that spewed lava and shook. While he was watching, a boy lost his grip and tumbled down. When he stood up, his shirt was charred. Logan hurried to get away from it. They passed a massive concentration of cabins, scattered around a big square, and he stared at every single one in awe. They were all amazing, different and interesting. He saw Evan's cabin, completely made of gold, so bright it hurt the eyes. His mom's cabin, Cabin Six, was sensible, practical. He guessed the owl on top of the door was the one Chiron had mentioned him being afraid of when he was little, because it seriously creeped him out. It followed him with its eyes as he passed. His father and him were eager to leave it behind.

At last they passed his dad's cabin. It was awesome. It was like a piece of the sea on land, gray-blue rock walls, shells encrusted between them glittering in the afternoon sun. His father led him closer, seeing his interest. The moment he put a foot inside the cabin, he caught the smell of the ocean, like a sea breeze entering from the window, though they were in the middle of a hill.

"Cabin Three." His father said solemnly. Logan looked up at him. His eyes were soft, a nostalgic smile lifting his lips. He thought he could relate. If he could pick without getting blasted to pieces, he'd pick Cabin Three too.

His dad led them far, down a hill, right to the beach. It surprised him to know they had walked so far in so little time. They settled down in the sand, watching the slight rippling of the water, the sea wind rustling their hair, the warmth of the sun soaking through their skin. It was nice. Peaceful. It reminded Logan of the times they went to Montauk with grandma Sally and Paul when he was little. Familiar and comfortable. For the first time since he'd been attacked by that monster, Logan felt it was okay to relax.

He imagined his father could have said a lot. He could have asked him if he was okay, could have asked him how he was taking all the news, could have told him he was glad or maybe upset at him finding out. Instead, he said:

"So, an empousa?"

"Yeah." Logan chuckled nervously.

"That's pretty rough for a first monster."

"I thought any monster was pretty rough for a first monster." He said grumpily. His dad laughed.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"What did you get?" he asked, getting suddenly curious. He wished he could remember his dad's stories better.

"A Minotaur in underwear." Logan's eyes widened, his face contorted in a half terrified, half disgusted face. "I know. Double the horror."

"Jeez, dad, you and your rotten luck." It was a known fact that his father wasn't the luckiest person in the world, but Logan was just starting to realize how bad his luck actually was.

"I used to think so too." His dad said slowly, contemplatively. Logan waited for him to elaborate, but his face broke into a smile and he turned to him. "So, how'd you beat it?" Logan groaned.

"I didn't do anything at all, I just lay there waiting to be chopped to bits while mom went badass mode and shot it into yellow dust." He admitted, embarrassed. "Did you know mom was that badass?"

"Yes." His dad said without hesitation.

"Since when is she that badass?"

"Pretty much always." Percy finished with a grin.

"Did you know she could shoot?" he asked. The image of his mother pointing a gun at that monster was burned in his brain. Logan always thought his mom was kind of cool, the way she'd outwit anyone that ever tried to give her crap was sort of totally awesome, but he had never even suspected she could have a side that shot monsters as a hobby.

"Well, she's more of a dagger girl, but yeah, guns are practical when you're in a hurry." His dad said with a shrug.

"You're not scared of her?" Logan asked, voice lowering in a confidential tone. His father nodded once.

"Yeah."

"And you married her!" He exclaimed, looking at him like he was crazy. His dad laughed loudly.

"What are you talking about? I'm terrified of her, that doesn't mean I don't love her." Logan rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling.

"You're so whipped, dad." Percy looked like he might protest, but one look from his son and he shut up. Both knew Annabeth owned them.

They fell into silence. It was comfortable quietude. Logan had a million questions running through his head, he didn't know how to begin or when. He didn't want to upset his parents. He could remember his mother's haunted eyes when he had talked to her in the car and he knew somehow that his being a demigod was a sort of delicate matter in the family, but he was still so confused. There was so much he wanted, needed to know. His father startled him by breaking the silence.

"When you were born, Logue, we didn't know what to expect. Your mother and I… We were lucky. We were really, really lucky to survive long enough to marry, and believe me when I say there have been many close calls." Logan was surprised by the bitterness in his voice. "The demigod life… It's not as cool as it sounds."

"I've noticed." Logan grumbled. His father smiled sadly to him.

"It kind of just sucks most of the time." He admitted. "So when you were born, we hoped with all we had that you'd turn out mortal and be safe from the kind of life your mother and I had, and for a while, it looked like it had happened." He ran a hand through his unruly hair frustratedly. Somehow, Logan knew exactly what had happened.

"What attacked me?" he guessed.

"Dracanae." His dad said, an underlying anger in his voice, as if he was reliving the experience. Logan swallowed his nervousness.

"How old was I?" he asked quietly. Percy breathed deeply, leaning forward, resting his forearms on his legs, a dark troubled look crossing his face. "Dad…"

"Five." His father mumbled.

Logan's breath caught in his throat. Five. He was five. A monster had attacked him when he was five years old. He was just a kid. Just a little kid. Practically a baby. Logan had been terrified enough with that afternoon's experience, but at least he could run, he could deceive them, he had reflexes, he stayed alive long enough for help to arrive. Five. He wouldn't have stood a chance. His father's sea green eyes were dark and revolving, like the sea in days of storm.

"You were at school. There wasn't anyone around that could be… We'd checked a million times. We weren't around, it wasn't our scent the monster had picked up. It was you." His voice was tight and pained. He laughed, a sad choked sound Logan had never heard from his father his entire life. "You had forgotten your lunch." He said incredulously. "Your mother drove there to give it to you…" he trailed off, eyes on the horizon. The sea churned loudly, the current picked up, the waves unraveled more quickly, as if answering to his distress.

Logan understood. The lump in his throat grew. His life had hung on a thread so ridiculously thin and he hadn't even been aware of it. Logan had never given much thought to thinks like fate or coincidences, but he was starting to take them more seriously now. One day, one day in a thousand others in which they hadn't, his parents forget his lunch and his life is spared. What if they hadn't? What if maybe, somewhere, in a different life, Percy and Annabeth only had two children now?

He didn't want to think about it. It was too scary, too maddening. If he dwelled on it he'd go crazy.

"We were terrified, Logan. We were absolutely terrified. We didn't know what to do, where to go, we just… We were so scared. We were barely functioning. I remember calling Chiron and… Your mother was crying. Hell, I think I was crying." He shook his head. "Chiron showed up. He told us to bring you to camp. It was probably what we should have done, but we didn't want to. We wanted you close to us. We had an ugly argument and in the end he left. After that… Your mother and I… We left Manhattan. We looked for a house further away from Olympus. We…Stopped visiting camp. We didn't bring up mythology. We tried to live as… Mortally as we could. As you grew up, you thought all you had seen was part of your child's imagination and we didn't correct you."

"But how did you manage? Didn't monsters attack?"

"Occasionally. We fought them. We hid it as best as we could. Your grandparents probably helped."

"The blessings?" Logan asked, surprising his father and him by remembering them. He nodded.

"Yes. It wasn't flawless, but it helped keep you hidden long enough for you to grow up normally. Nate… Nate was too little to remember anything. And when Charlie was born, we were already living like mortals."

"But I couldn't have been completely oblivious, I must have noticed something, I should remember something…" He insisted. His father turned those piercing eyes to him, seriously.

"Don't you?"

The scary thing was Logan realized he did remember. There had been moments in his life in which things had happened that he couldn't explain. Moments when he felt strange for no reason. He caught himself looking in a direction, like something was supposed to be there, but he just couldn't see it. He remembered his parents turning serious when they had been laughing a second before, pulling him closer and abruptly changing paths, like there was something dangerous ahead. He remembered his father arriving home once with his shirt bathed in red. He had turned around and Logan had caught the view of deep gashes on his back before his mother had whisked him off to the bathroom. He had assumed he had dreamed it, because the next minute his dad had shown up good as new.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized the signals had always been there.

"I…" he tripped on words. He didn't know how to convey his thoughts, he wasn't sure he could even fully turn the swirling mess of questions and images in his head into words. "Dad, I…" he stopped himself.

What could he say? He just learned he was a demigod. The child of two very powerful demigods. His grandparents were gods. He was entitled to a life of running away from monsters and angry deities, trying to fit in between two worlds, hiding who he really was. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. This was who he was now, where he belonged, this crazy new reality where he was some new lame kind of superhero. Only he wasn't super. He was just same old normal Middle School Logan Jackson, with monsters on his tail. How was he supposed to go back to school on Monday and pretend none of this ever happened? That the scars on his shoulder were from some kind of cat? How could he look at his parents and see the goofy marine biologist and the nerdy architect when in a small corner of the world they were legends?

It struck him then. His parents were legends. They were heroes. They were demigods, real demigods, like the ones in the old myths. He saw the way his mom had shot Kelli. She was serious, precise, calculating. Perfectly deadly. She knew what she was doing. It had looked so natural, now he knew she'd been doing that for years. His father too. The longing in his eyes when they sweeped over the green hills, the wistful gaze he sent to the Poseidon cabin. The way his mother had relaxed, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders the moment they crossed the property line.

This was where they belonged, this camp was their home. And they had given it all up to raise him. They had left their whole life behind so he could be next to them.

He wanted to be angry. He didn't want to be a demigod. He didn't want to have to deal with monsters and gods and swords and campers like Emma. He had been having the time of his life being normal, being chased by a vampire-donkey was not in his Christmas wish list. He was frustrated and angry and scared to death and he wanted to yell at someone. In a fleeting, horribly selfish moment, he wished his dad had married a mortal, so he wouldn't have to deal with all of that. And then he felt guilty. How could he wish that on his parents? It wasn't fair.

"Why… Didn't you let Chiron bring me to camp? It would have made everything easier." Logan asked, voice light, trying not to let the emotions seep into it. "You and mom wouldn't have to hide. You wouldn't have to worry about me." He didn't say what he was really thinking. 'You would have been happier without me.'

To his surprise, his father laughed.

"Wouldn't worry about you? Logue, we worry about you if you sleep ten minutes more than usual, we worry about you if you walk into the kitchen and take too long to leave, and we're in the same house. Can we imagine how much we'd worry if you were away at camp?" He said, shaking his head. "That's what parents do. We worry. And fret. And fuss. And your job as the kid is to rebel against it and throw fits."

"I don't throw fits." Logan said quietly. His father's smile softened.

"I know." He said gently. "You're terrible at being a teenager." He added with humor.

"Dad!"

"It's okay. I was too."

Silence fell between them again. His father sighed. He was calmer now, not looking so frustrated, but he still had an air of sadness that filled the space between them with a dull melancholy.

"When I was your age…" his dad started, speaking at last. "I met my father for the first time." Logan wanted to know that story, but he guessed he shouldn't interrupt his father. There was something in the moment that told him it was important. "I had gone on a quest with your mom and Dew's dad, to get back Zeus' lightning bolt. We recovered it, and I returned it. My father was there. We talked for the first time. He said…" he paused, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight smile as he remembered it. "He said he was sorry he had me, because he had brought me a terrible fate." Logan swallowed in dry. He could relate. "My father had just called me a mistake, I was upset. I didn't understand what he meant. I didn't… Until we had you, Logue."

Logan could feel the weight of his words crash on top of his head. His eyes were burning. Had he actually heard right? Was his father really saying that he didn't want to have him? His dad wasn't looking at him, he kept his eyes on the ocean. He looked distant, lost in thoughts.

"I had to live my entire life fighting monsters, hiding, running… Being tossed from quest to quest and war to war, watching my family being torn apart, watching my friends fall in battle, feeling like a pawn in a big chess board I had no control over. I didn't want this kind of life for you, Logue, I didn't want you and your siblings to have to go through what your mom and I did. And I'm so, so sorry I can't protect you from all of this."

Logan was biting his lips, his eyes burned more. Crying wasn't very heroic, but he couldn't believe his dad, his dad, his hero, was telling him that. But then his father finally turned to him. His whole physiognomy changed. He wasn't distant anymore, he was smiling, green eyes shining brighter than ever with a fierce kind of pride.

"But I do not, ever, even for a second regret you, Logue. I wish you didn't have to deal with all this, but I know you can. Because you're my son." Percy said strongly. Logan felt the weight lift off his shoulders. He smiled, embarrassed, but at the same time, a burning kind of happiness blazing through him. "And I wouldn't change that for anything in the world."

When they made their way back through camp a few minutes later, both of them were a little red and misty-eyed. Logan's father seemed as embarrassed for his words as Logan felt for listening, and even though he was happy he had taken the time to go talk to him, he was glad it was over, none of them were the overly emotional type. They arrived at the Big House to a full room. His mother was fidgeting in her chair, nervously braiding Charlie's pigtails while she babbled away on her lap. His little brother lay sprawled on the floor with paper sheets and half a dozen crayons, doodling absent-mindedly, grey eyes narrowed in concentration, swatting away the blonde bangs falling on his eyes in annoyance, scrunching his nose in distaste at his drawing, as if he just couldn't get it right. Logan was immediately washed over with the same wave of relief he had felt when he had seen Charlie before. Logically he knew neither had been in danger, he'd been the one to nearly be killed by a monster on his way out of school, but a small part of him that had been unconsciously apprehensive was soothed at seeing both his siblings were there and safe.

His mother was the first to see them, her head whipped in the direction of the door the moment it swung open. She stood up so fast she would have dropped Charlie on her butt if she hadn't been holding her. She put his little sister on her feet and walked up to the front door. She was smiling as if nothing was wrong, but Logan could see she had been worried. To his complete embarrassment, she noticed their red noses and grinned mischievously, wrapping an arm around his father and him.

"Aw, my sappy boys…" she teased.

"Shut up." His dad whined. She dropped a kiss to Logan's head and leaned on her tiptoes to kiss his father. Logan looked away. It wasn't a big kiss or anything, but still, it was gross. He gladly turned to his siblings for distraction.

"Hey, guys." He said, walking until them and sitting down beside Nathan. He had been startled out of his intellectual stupor and had sat up quickly, scrambling to grab the sheet he'd been doodling on and holding it to his chest, hiding his drawing. Charlie went over to them and unceremoniously plopped down on Logan's lap. He looked down at her with a humored smile. "Comfortable?" he asked teasingly.

"Yes." She said cheekily, reaching over to grab a red crayon and start scribbling on one of the spare sheets on the floor. Nate sent a sad, longing gaze towards his working tools, arm stretching forward as if to try and get his crayons back. Logan saw the potential fight brewing and prepared to intervene, but he was saved by the bell. Or rather, the centaur.

Chiron had walked back into the room, still in the same wheelchair he had seen him when he had left the Big House with Emma. Logan didn't know what had happened while he had been away, but he was gently guiding a girl out of the next room. She looked dazed. His parents exchanged an amused look, the same kind his mother wore in the car, while she was explaining all the "you're half god" thing while he spluttered in denial and made an idiot of himself. He was guessing she was a newbie in all that too. Chiron smiled when he saw his father and him were back, looking pleasantly surprised, like he had been expecting him to have ditched everyone and ran back home. Logan had to admit the thought had crossed his mind once or twice.

"Logan! And Percy! I'm glad to see you two are back so soon." His smile lost a bit of its happiness, and his voice dropped the lightness. "I'm afraid we have matters to discuss."

"What matters?" Logan cut him off.

"Don't worry, honey, your dad and I will take care of it." His mother assured him. He huffed indignantly.

"Mom, if you're going to 'discuss matters'," he said with sarcasm "and I'm guessing it has to do with me, I want to be a part of it."

"Logan…" his mother started tiredly.

"What are you even going to talk about anyway?" he asked in a snarky tone.

"Son." his father called. Logan was expecting a chiding, but his voice didn't carry a reprimand. It almost sounded like pleading.

His dad's words from a couple of minutes before came to mind. 'He told us to bring you to camp. We had an ugly argument.' Logan suddenly didn't want to be a part of it anymore. He turned his eyes back down, to Charlie sitting on his lap. She had stopped drawing and was looking up at him with a curious expression. He smiled at her, trying to shake the nervousness that had started creeping up him. She grinned back in that blindingly radiant way that always managed to make him melt to the ground. He shook his head at his own silliness. Were all the girls in his family so good at wrapping the boys around their finger?

The atmosphere got awkward really fast. The girl was still standing to the side, she was the most awkward of them all, looking at her feet sheepishly as if sensing she had just walked in on a touchy family business. Logan didn't know her, but he felt sorry for her, she looked uncomfortable as hell. Chiron cleared his throat and laid a hand on her shoulder encouragingly, but he looked at Logan when he spoke.

"Logan, this is Cassidy. She's a new camper like you, I suppose you wouldn't mind her waiting with you? I can give you both a tour of camp later." Logan had already kind of seen camp with his dad, but he didn't want to be rude, Chiron seemed to be trying to get rid of her gently.

"Sure." He said, giving the girl a nod.

"Let's go then. Percy. Annabeth. If you'd follow me." He gestured to his parents. They followed him into the next room. Before the door closed, he could feel his mother's warning look sweeping over him and his siblings.

"Behave." She said simply, and then closed the door.

The girl, Cassidy, he remembered, was still standing by the corner of the room, looking lost and embarrassed. Logan waved his arm, indicating the chair his mother had been sitting on before. He felt strange for it, because it wasn't his house, but he got the feeling if he hadn't offered the girl a seat, she would have stayed standing until someone announced it was dinner. She smiled awkwardly to him and sat down. He took the moment to look at her. She was about his age, with olive skin and midnight black hair in short curls that barely reached her shoulder. Her eyes were a striking amber color. She was pretty, he supposed, in a different way, even if her hair was as messy and her clothes as disheveled as his were when he had arrived. He tried to strike up a conversation.

"Well, I'm Logan. And this is my sister Charlie." He started, nodding towards her. "And my brother Nate." The girl smiled at them, less awkwardly now.

"Hi." She said simply, breathing out and relaxing a little.

"You're new here too." He said, more as a statement than a question. She nodded.

"Just watched the orientation video."

"Oh." He was guessing that was why she had looked so dazed before.

"What did you think of it?" she asked.

"I didn't see it." He admitted. "My mother told me everything on our way here." At her confused look, he explained. "She's a demigod. Actually, both my parents are."

"Mom is a daughter of Athena!" Charlie exclaimed happily. "That's why she's so smart." She added in a lower tone, like it was a secret. Logan laughed.

"How do you even know that, Char?" he asked. She shrugged, grabbing another crayon, and resumed her drawing. Nate made a small strangled sound, reaching out for his precious crayon again, like his sister using them caused him physical pain.

"That's what Nate said."

"And how does Nate know that?" Logan asked pointedly, looking at his brother.

But he knew how Nate would know. Nate was practically a son of Athena himself. Logan had always been more of a swimmer than a reader, he didn't really like studying unless the subject completely captured him and that didn't happen very often. Charlie was still too small to be sure, but from what he could tell, she was much too restless to enjoy a scholarly life. Logan was sure Cabin Six wouldn't take long to dismiss her too. But not Nate. Nate was the thinker of the three of them, he was only eight, but he was already smarter than most people in Logan's class, himself included sometimes.

"It makes sense." His brother said simply. Logan couldn't know how in the world that made sense, but of course, if someone would have found any logic in all that madness, it would be Nate. Logan's eyebrows scrunched together, he was still holding that drawing tight to his chest.

"Nate, what's that?" he asked. Nate's whole face turned pink.

"It's not ready yet." He mumbled. Logan decided to leave it alone. Nate could be very sensitive when it came to his little projects.

"Okay. Uh…" he turned back to the girl, who had been watching them with a little smile. She must like children. "So. Cassidy, right?" she grimaced at the sound of her name.

"Cassie." She corrected.

"Right. Cassie. Who's your Olympian parent?"

"I don't know. She hasn't claimed me yet." She said with a sad sigh, but then piped up again. "Chiron says it won't take long, though. Apparently, everyone gets claimed at thirteen tops."

"Oh. It's your mother then."

"Yeah. I grew up with my dad in St. Louis."

"Oh, cool. I'm from New York."

"Loogue!" Charlie called, picking up her drawing and turning around, shoving it in his face. "Look! Look! I drew a pony!" she said excitedly. He grabbed her hand and pulled the sheet of paper back so he'd be able to look at it. His brows furrowed.

"Why does you pony have wings?" he asked. She looked at him like he was stupid.

"All the ponies here have wings, Logue."

"It's a pegasus." Nate said, sending her an annoyed look.

"Hold up the two of you! How do you know so much? Mom and dad have been keeping this from us since before you two were born!" Logan asked incredulously. The two stared at him like they didn't understand what he was so flustered about.

"Dad showed us the ponies." Charlie said like it was obvious.

"Mom said their name is pegasus." Nate completed in the same tone.

"And you just… Accepted?" he asked. They blinked at him, waiting for his point.

Logan guessed things like winged horses and wisdom goddesses were easier to accept when you still believed in Santa. He looked back at Cassie. She was looking away, like she hadn't been paying attention to their conversation, but she was clearly trying not to laugh. He sighed. She grinned at him.

"Tell me I'm not the only one who freaked out." She said with humor. He couldn't help but smile back.

"No. You're not."

"Good to know."

The door to the side room opened. His father stuck his head out. His smile was a little nervous, but he didn't look really mad, so Logan guessed this talk had been better than last time. He cleared his throat and waved him over.

"Logue, can you come over for a second?"

"Uh… Sure." He gently pushed Charlie on her feet and stood up himself. He sent Cassie an awkward goodbye wave and she waved back with an equally awkward smile. "I'll… Uh, see you around, I guess?"

"Yeah. I think so." She turned back around, and came face to face with Charlie leaning on her knees. His little sister was blinking up at her with fascinated eyes.

"I like your hair." She said softly. Cassie's face turned to panic. She flipped back around, her whole expression screaming 'are you going to leave me here alone with these children?'

"We won't take long, we promise. And don't mind Charlie, she's mostly harmless." His father said with a reassuring smile, pulling Logan inside the room and closing the door.

Logan thought he had heard her whisper 'mostly?' in a terrified way. He almost worried about her, but decided she'd be okay. Charlie was in a tame mood that afternoon. The side room turned out to be a kitchen of sorts. His mother was sitting down on one of the chairs, with her arms crossed and a pissed off expression on her face, while Chiron had wheeled his chair to the other side of the table, as if unconsciously trying to stay as far as possible from her. Logan felt sorry for his dad, knowing he must have been the one stuck in the crossfire. He immediately stopped feeling sorry for him when he caught the mischievous look in his dad's face.

"'See you around?'" he asked suggestively. Logan blushed.

"Shut up, dad. I was just being nice." He snapped. Percy lifted his hands in surrender and pointed him the vacant chair beside his mom. Logan sat down, his dad stood behind his mom's chair with his hands on her shoulders. Logan didn't really know if it was to comfort her or restrain her in case she decided to flip out and go psycho on everybody. He didn't usually think of his mom as a psycho, but he couldn't help remembering her shooting Kelli. That wasn't something you forget that easily. Chiron coughed to get his attention and started.

"Logan. You parents and I have discussed your situation. We realize it wouldn't be the best option to pull you back from school in the middle of the year." He thought he saw his mother nod smugly. "However, we can't just let you go back outside without training. Monsters are aware of your demigod status now. You'd be killed." Logan liked the part with the winged ponies better than the part with the monsters. "Now, this is unusual, but I suppose… You are an unusual camper."

"What? What is unusual?" he furrowed his brows.

"From now on you will spend your summers at Camp Half-Blood." The centaur started. "And until the end of this school year, you will spend your weekends here." He finished uncertainly.

"What?" Logan exclaimed. He turned to his parents. "What?"

"It's going to be better this way, honey." His mother tried to soothe him.

"But, mom!" he whined.

It wasn't that he hadn't liked camp, it was a pretty cool place, and of course he didn't want to be eaten by monsters, but still… His weekends. He usually spent his weekends playing videogames and watching TV, he didn't want to have to attend a bunch of activities. In particular the climbing wall. He really didn't want anything to do with the climbing wall.

"Logan. We know it's not the best arrangement, but it's what we've got right now." His mother said sternly. He sighed.

"Do I have a choice?" he mumbled.

"No." All three adults said at once.

"Gee, thanks." He grumbled, annoyed.

"Hey, it's going to be alright, buddy. And look on the bright side! You get to learn archery and sword fight, that's cool, right?" his dad said, clapping him on the back, trying to cheer him up.

"I guess so…" Logan sighed, then stopped. "Hey, wait. Sword fight? For real? Like, real swords? Like in the movies?" his parents laughed at his sudden eagerness.

"Yes."

"But… Don't all the other kids know that already? I won't be like… Really behind?" Logan didn't want to look like a complete loser in front of people like Emma. Or even Evan. What if he totally sucked? How disappointing would it be for the son of two great heroes to be a complete failure at sword fighting.

"Oh, don't worry, honey." His mother's eyes were shining so bright he got the feeling he should worry. "You'll learn from a really good teacher." She said with an amused smile.

"The best swordsman of the century, in fact." Chiron added. Logan's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. He was suddenly feeling apprehensive.

"Who?" he asked.

His father opened a mischievous grin, his sea green eyes glowing with what could only be described as pure trouble.

"Me, of course." He said.

Logan spent the rest of his afternoon walking around camp with his siblings, playing with Charlie and trying to get Nate to let go of his crayons. Charlie and the pegasi were love at first sight. She was absolutely in love with them and they seemed to love her back. Logan put her on top of them and she spent hours on end, leaning over their heads, grabbing their ears and babbling away about her dolls and her toys, laughing and answering as if they were the teddy bears she had tea parties with. Nate had been decided to keep a grumpy face and a tight hold on his pencils, or at least it was like that until he saw the Apollo cabin practicing archery. He promptly plopped down on the ground next to them and watched them in pure awe. Evan was there. When he saw Logan and Nate, he rushed until them to talk. When Logan introduced the two of them, he couldn't decide who was more starstruck, Nate or Evan.

He spotted Cassie once, talking to a bunch of kids in front of Cabin Eleven. She seemed to be having fun. Logan felt a little out of place, knowing soon even she would be claimed and have a cabin to go to. He didn't have one. He was temporarily staying at the Big House with his parents and siblings until they could figure out a better arrangement. Everything about him seemed to be temporary, he thought grumpily.

Still, it had been a pretty cool day. Especially when night fell and his parents fetched them for dinner. He followed them to a big pavillion where everyone sat on long tables with their siblings and burned food as an offer to the gods. Logan found it a little strange at the beginning, but Charlie loved it. She almost threw her whole dinner on the fire. And don't even get her started on the cups that filled themselves. She filled every cup on their table and then proceeded to go around the room making everyone who would give her attention have apple juice for dinner. The Aphrodite table abandoned their dinner to coo over her. Charlie had gone back to her table with elaborate braids in her hair.

But the best part of the night had been the campfire. It was huge and amazing, burning bright with different colors, five, ten, fifteen feet into the night sky, making his face warm even from afar. The Apollo Cabin started singing funny camp songs about "that famous party in Macedonia", naming every single person who attended and what scandal they caused, or another about a pet dragon that ate everything, and everyone was singing along, even Emma. Even his parents. They sat together, his dad's arms around his mom, smiling happily and singing enthusiastically, sharing radiant looks and quick kisses when they thought no one was looking. For a second Logan saw them as they would have looked as campers, twenty years back. Young, carefree and every bit as much in love as they still were.

He was completely lost when they started singing the next song, about how their grandmother dressed for war, pointing to body parts to show which piece of armor goes where. Nate was dozing off against his side and Charlie was doing the "head, shoulders, knees and toes" dance, but she looked like she was fighting sleep herself. He caught Cassie's eye from across the campfire. She looked at him laughing, shrugging, looking as lost as he felt. In that instant, he felt grateful to know that she was new to this too, that he wouldn't be alone in being the new kid at camp who didn't know anything. They could stick together as newbies. He smiled at her. Maybe, maybe he had found a friend.

That night Logan trudged up the hill to the Big House, listening to Charlie mumble giberish while she slept against his shoulder as he carried her on his back, while his parents walked behind them, talking softly, arms wrapped around each other, happy to be back at the place where they had grown up, where they belonged. He lay in his bed at the temporary room he shared with his siblings at the Big House, looking out the window into the midnight blue sky glimmering with a million stars, thinking about how drastically his life had changed in less than twenty four hours. He thought of the monster attack that morning and it seemed like a lifetime away. He thought of the beach, the cabins, the climbing wall, the pegasi, the archery practice, the campfire and slowly, started drifting off.

His last thought before finally falling asleep, was that maybe, he could belong there too.


End file.
